Run Ginger Run

This morning was a pretty wild one. Don't remember what I was dreaming about but my alarm wrestled me out of it at 6:30. I slammed the snooze bar and drifted off again. This ritual went on every ten minutes or so - until 5 minutes to 7, when I said to myself - Hey, it's allergist day! At that point, Chad came in to kiss me goodbye. Then I got out of bed and took the dog out and threw clothes on. So - in my mind I'm like - Ok- stop by Rachael's and drop off wedding sandals to get dyed, then go directly to the allergist, get shot, wait 20 minutes in the lobby (they always make you wait), go to office building in town, drop off large envelope of secret stuff you could have snooped and looked through last night but didn't because you have "matured", go to CCs and get your Wednesday morning Super Grande Mocha with the flavor shot of your choice and a cinnamon raisin bagel (not toasted, please), then head to the office.

I get to the allergist and have just been stuck and am settling into a good article in last week's edition of people - when my cell phone rings.

It's Rachael.

She has locked herself out of her house - her car keys are on the kitchen table - she can see them through the window.

Now - I have a key to her house and have had one for the past three years or so - for housesitting, petsitting, babysitting, piano playing purposes.

She tells me she's going to try Will first (her fiancee) and see if he can swing by and let her in but she'll call me if she needs to. I'm thinking - I've got to get this secret envelope to that office by 9:00 am because they're meeting about the contents then . . .

I hang up and continue reading. Several interesting articles on Princess Diana (can't believe People magazine is still finding ways to squeeze stories out of her)and the American Idol cast.

My timer goes off. I briskly gather up my things to leave. My cell phone rings again.

It's Rachael. Again.

Will can't come. She can't reach him. Could I please please come? I say, sure, no problem.

So I get on the interstate and head back to my neighborhood. Let her in her house and then decide to drive back by my house to see what Mr. B is doing. I was hoping to catch him in some cute pose - sunbathing in the grass or something. I don't know what he does during the day. We leave him in the yard -since we have a fence. I've been begging for a "Weiner Cam" for months now, but it would take some doing to set one up and we haven't had time.

So, while driving up Rachael's street, I roll down the window and stick my arm out, thinking, Mr. B and I are so bonded that he will smell my scent on the air and come running to the gate. I imagine him lifting his snout northward and taking a generous sniff, his eyes widening and his little legs scurrying to the gate to wait for his mother.

I just know I'm going to see him there waiting, tail wagging... He isn't there.

I stop the car on the street and roll down the passenger side window (my house is on the left). I make arm motions (so my scent will drift out). Nothing.

I whistle.

Several times.


I begin screaming "Baby! - Oh my BABY!"



Still nothing.

So I begin to actually pull in my driveway and finally, he comes running up. He looks confused. I don't think he recognizes me. Then I say, Hey my little friend - and he starts freaking out and walking around in circles and jumping up on the gate. He starts barking in this high pitched shriek that he uses when I pull up at the end of the day and he can't wait to fly into my arms.

Of course, there will be none of that because I have the secret envelope to drop off waaaaaaaay across town and I only have like 35 minutes to get there. So - I say - I was only stopping by to say Hey - which I don't think he heard because he's shrieking too loudly. So - I just back out of the driveway and again -he looks at me, confused and hurt, this time. As I'm driving away, I can see him in my rearview, still standing on the gate, his tail slowing down until it stops wagging altogether. No telling what kind of psychological damage I have done to my dog. He's probably trying to commit suicide as we speak. He has issues.

So - then I'm back on the road, whizzing around cars. I decide to take the Essen lane exit, which is a horrible and stupid error because one lane of the road is covered with orange barrels and totatlly closed. I'm screaming and beating on my steering wheel. I am infuriated with myself!!! In my mind, I imagine an aerial map of baton rouge and then I imagine a little black dot on the interstate, which is my car, zooming on ahead past the Essen lane exit and almost to it's destination - if only I wouldn't have pulled off. Oh well - I imagine alternate scenarios in my life all the time - kind of like Sliding Doors, with Gwyneth Paltrow.

Anyway - so I finally make it to my destination. This is the worst parking lot in the whole city. A pot hole at every turn. I can't find a spot. I am circling. I do the unthinkable and take a handicapped spot and race in. Just in time - 2 minutes to 9:00. I reach the chick's office and hand her the envelope. Other people are coming in for the meeting. "Thanks" she says. "No problem" I say.

I don't have a ticket waiting for me! Thank GOD!

So - I get my coffee and bagel. I opted for a caramel flavor shot this week. It was ok, I suppose.

And here I am. Everyone else is at the Board meeting today, which I don't have to go to - so it's pretty quiet around here.

Well - off to working now.

More later

9:45 a.m. ::
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